Dear Mr. Diaz,

          You wrote: "I doubt my kids will remember what they
          did with the ashes."

          I read this comment to my cousin Estelle.  She said,
          "Why don't you ask them?"

          I called up my oldest, Philip Jr.  It's a long distance
          call because he lives in Los Angeles.  He's a senior
          copy editor in the adult entertainment industry.

          I asked him straight out: "Son, what did you do with
          my ashes?"

          He seemed a little distracted, but said, "Dad, aren't
          they in the ceramic urn on the mantel?"

          But there wasn't any urn there.  So I called up my
          next oldest, Catherine, and asked her.  She told me to
          ask Philip Jr.  But I had already talked to him.

          I called up my youngest kid.  "Pendie," I said, "I'm
          trying to find out where my ashes are."  She said I
          should ask my cousin Estelle.  Which took me full
          circle, since I had started with Estelle.

          I stopped over at Estelle's house.

          "Estelle," I said, "Do you have my ashes?"

          "No," she said, "but I expect to have them here on
          my mantel in a few years.  Don't worry about it."

          So maybe you should ask your cousin.


                                  Very truly yours,

                                  Philip McPherson

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